


Open Hearts

by Iris_Celeno



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Another "let's explain 1x15", F/M, Missing Scenes, Shameless clichés, Sickeningly lovey dovey, serious talk, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6353923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iris_Celeno/pseuds/Iris_Celeno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between 1x15 and 1x16. Neal and Christa have a day off when a phone call opens a can of worms.<br/>Now complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stay Stay Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is pure fluffy fluff, the tone will change a bit in the next one.  
> As always, non beta-ed, please forgive any mistake you might find.

Neal opened one eye and closed it again: The morning sunrays hit him directly in his face, blinding him. He was lying on his stomach, in his bed, once more he had forgotten to draw the curtains, he didn't need to get up in a hurry because he had a day off, and she was already up, his still drowsy mind assessed as it slowly awakened. The doctor stretched his long body, buried his head in his pillow, and let out a deep sigh of well-being. The sheets smelled like her, he thought. Like them. 

His appartment was silent but for the sound of water running, coming from the bathroom. He rolled over on his back, settled on her side of the bed and plopped his head on her pillow. Looking at the ceiling, surrounded by the scent of her, sporting a smile he knew was idiotic, he reminisced pleasantly the time spent together on the previous day, from their most mundane discussion to what took place in this very bed a few hours before. Allowing himself to behave like the fool in love he truly was almost made up for her not being by his side right now. Almost. 

When the sound of water stopped, he stood up. He put a pair of boxers on and moved to the kitchen to prepare some coffee. As his eyes fell upon the empty place where his fridge used to be, he thinned his lips. Three days since he had ordered a new one and still no news about the delivery. It was supposed to be set for tomorrow at the latest. Well, at least Christa had thought of buying some donuts after their shift, so they'd have something to eat for breakfast. 

His thoughts drifted to her again -when didn't they- while he drank his first cup of the day and pretended to look around the living room. Wouldn't it be sad, bordering pathetic, if he couldn't wait one minute more to see her? 

No, it wouldn't, he decided, his now very alert brain helpfully providing him with images of Christa wrapped in a towel, rivulets of water running down all over her smooth skin...He walked, fine, he strode, to the bathroom. When he opened the door she was already dressed, but he couldn't be disappointed anyway.

She was wearing a pale blue woolen dress with elbow-length sleeves. The close-fitting top and pencil skirt complimented her slender figure; the color made her eyes pop and with her creamy pink complexion and light blond hair, she evoked the soft daylight of winter.  
He had never seen her but in the most casual clothing, he realized, and did she clean up gorgeous. With her hair simply brushed down and no make-up yet, she managed to look classy and natural at once. He didn't know why, but his gaze was irresistibly drawn to her little earlobes, adorned by small round pearls. He felt a compulsion to nibble on them. To nibble on her. She looked delicious. Purely edible, he thought. 

In two steps he was behind her and looking into her eyes through the mirror, he sneaked his arms around her waist, his palms flat on her midriff, in an intimate embrace.

“Hi,” he whispered against her skin, nuzzling her nape, inhaling her perfume. 

She dropped the toothbrush she was holding in the plastic glass and tilted her head to one side, giving him better access. 

“Hi,” she smiled back, letting herself go in his arms. 

He set his mouth to the curve of her neck, his hands traveling up and down her sides. She _was_ delicious. There was an faint aftertaste to her skin, salty and honeyed at once, and he could never get enough of it. 

“Neal...”she sighed. “We decided we were going out today. Remember?”

“Mh-mh.”

He was kissing his way down to her collarbone, and wasn't to be deterred. Grasping her hips, he pressed against her.

“Neal!” she half-moaned, half-laughed. “Neal, come on!”

“Gladly,” he murmured, his lips feathering back up against her skin until they locked on a certain point at the crook of her neck. He teased it with his tongue, enjoyed the shiver it evoked in her, held her even tighter. 

She turned her head to her right so that she could face him, trying to reason with him. 

“Since we've been together, we've spent each and every of our days off in bed. You remarked on it yourself.”

He raised his head, his intent gaze meeting hers. His right hand left her hip, to cup her jaw. 

“I wasn't complaining,” he specified. “Not in the least.”

He leaned closer and took her mouth, slow and tender and deliberate, his tongue playing with hers, his hands keeping her firmly in place, until he elicited a sweet whimper from her.

He parted, smiled at her. “See? You don't complain, either.”

“Your fridge died three days ago. We have nothing to eat,” she argued. “I'm tired of pizza and chinese take out.”

“Oh, now you're the one who thinks about eating,” he mocked her fondly.

She rolled her eyes, and his smile widened. In truth, he very much wanted a day out with her. 

Both of them hated gossip and the last thing they wanted was for the whole hospital to poke their nose into their relationship. Yet, it was becoming more and more difficult for him to pretend they were just colleagues. Several times, he had caught himself in the nick of time before taking her by the hand or the waist upon leaving the locker room. He wasn't demonstrative in public, but it cost him more and more to repress those small, natural gestures of affection. She was part of his life, and he wanted the whole world to know it...  
If he were honest, part of him wanted all the other men to know it. Of course and unfortunately, he couldn't be the only one who noticed how attractive she was. Mario had stopped addressing to her those flirtatious remarks which used to _annoy_ him so much and her attitude, warm and nice but clearly unavailable for any non-professional discussion, efficiently pre-empted any attempt at flirting. Yet it still didn't deter a couple of paramedics, cops and sometimes even a patient from making moon eyes at her and saying that he didn't like it at all was an understatement. It was a miracle that the quantity of acid flowing in his stomach everytime it happened didn't bore holes in it yet. He trusted Christa, entirely, and he wasn't particularly proud of thinking like a possessive caveman. But he did all the same.  
So for all those reasons he had been looking forward to their date. He wanted to stroll in the streets, hand in hand with her, he wanted to kiss her temple or her lips whenever he felt like it, he wanted to share lunch or dinner in a small cosy restaurant, he wanted to sit on the beach with her in his arms and talk and not care about anything but the two of them. 

Yet, teasing her was so tempting...

“I could make you forget all about food, you know?” he murmured, lips grazing her cheek, before he gave in to his earlier impulse to nibble on her earlobe. 

His hands traced their path down, sneaking under her dress to caress the inner side of her thighs, until she rested her head on his shoulder.

“I won't even try to deny it,” she breathed, clutching at his forearms. 

“Good.”

He spun her around, gave her a last, definite kiss on the mouth, and let go of her. It took four good seconds for her gaze to clear, he noted with satisfaction while he stripped. 

“You're full of it,” she chided then, biting her lip in annoyance.

“Yes, darling, but I had you for a moment,” he offered smugly, opening the shower stall. 

Her expression changed, then. Her stance shifted to subtly provocative, her eyes now inviting. 

“Easy. You can have me at any moment,” she let out with a brazen smile. “Don't you know it?”

He had already turned the water on and was about to close the stall, but his gesture came to an abrupt halt.

“Christa Lorenson,” he warned, “if you're still here in five seconds I'm going to haul you into the shower with me and your clothes on.”

She raised a brow. It sent his pulse running, she was going to join him. But instead, she turned on her heels and rushed out of the bathroom. 

“Cheat!” he shouted, but he wasn't angry. There was a promise in his voice.

“Sore loser!” 

With a carefree laugh, she plopped onto the bed. She stretched lazily, in delicious anticipation. Maybe they weren't going to have lunch out, finally. At their age, really, you'd think they'd know how to keep their hands off each other. But she didn't have it in her to regret this state of affairs.  
She shifted so that she was on his side of the bed, her head on his pillow. She closed her eyes, unable to hold back a smile. She loved his scent, spicy and tangy and so very male. His scent and his skin, so incredibly smooth and hot to the touch. She'd never tell him, since he was so smug already, but it was enough to turn her on. This morning that scent of his, the sight of him, the feel of him had overwhelmed her, and she had only managed to drag herself out of bed by sheer willpower whereas all she wanted, truly, was to kiss him all over and get her hands everywhere on his body until... 

Neal's landline phone rang loudly, interrupting her daydreaming.

“Christa, it must be the company calling to set up the delivery of my new fridge. Can you answer, please?” he called. “I'm lathering up.”

“I've got it,” she shouted back. And now, _she_ was in a lather courtesy of those images of Neal naked and covered in suds that her treacherous brain produced. She rolled on the bed to grab the receiver on the nightstand. “Neal Hudson's residence.”

There was a short silence at the other end of the line.

_-Hello, this is Peter Hudson. May I talk to my son, please?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, dun, dun?  
> Next chapter: Peter's call will change the course of the day.  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Hurt Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The weather changes fast, but they're still in love (just in case it wasn't clear: they will never not be in love) and still drowning in sugar syrup.  
> Non beta-ed, please forgive any mistake you might find.

_-Hello, this is Peter Hudson. May I talk to my son, please?_

Christa's smile froze instantly. 

“Of course. Please hold on for a second,” she managed to utter in a normal if slightly stressed out tone of voice.

She ran to the bathroom, miraculously avoided bumping against the furniture and swearing out loud in the process, and found Neal about to turn the water off, after he finished rinsing his hair.

“Your father,” she mouthed, both panicked and contrite.

“Oh,” was his only, unfazed answer. 

He exited the shower, grabbed his towel and after a quick drying, wrapped it around his waist. Then he took the phone she handed to him, taking advantage of her speechless state to plant a peck on her mouth.

“Hello, Dad...Yes, it's Dr Lorenson, indeed. Christa.”

Walking into the living room, Neal had the time of his life. Christa followed him and her lovely, expressive face was the epitome of astonishment. Maybe he took his wickedness after his mother, but he just loved catching her off guard. He couldn't help. He turned around, leaned over and placed another swift kiss on her parted lips. 

_-Your mother is with me, and since I said Dr Lorenson's name she looks like the cat who ate the canary. Did I miss something during our recent stay?_

“Well, you know Ma.”

Peter chuckled. 

_-Clever one, son, and a kind, lovely young lady,_ he remarked, serious again, _but isn't she a resident? Your career, and hers..._

“We've already got this covered, Dad. Officially.”

This time, his father answered with a little whistle. 

_-You're aware that if I tell your mother about this, she's going to be on tenterhooks? And put me on tenterhooks, too._

Neal chuckled in turn, even more as he heard his mom's faraway voice demanding to know what exactly please she should be told. 

“I'm well aware, yes.”

_-Actually, I was calling because there's a neurosurgery convention in Princeton, at the very end of June. I didn't plan to go initially, but Asra insisted we do and take a vacation afterwards, in order to pay you a visit and spend a little time with you...since our last meeting in Los Angeles didn't turn out as planned. It would be around the fourth of July. Would it be possible for you? I have to RSVP today if I want to attend._

“I usually take a couple of days off, around that time of the year. It would be great.”

He truly meant it. Their fallout had never changed the fact that he loved his father. But the few times they had met since had always ended with a heated, bitter argument. He used to dread their get-together as much as he looked forward to them and this time, he knew it would be different. They still didn't see eye to eye on many subjects, and his father would never not be a difficult man, but they had an understanding on the main thing.

_-So, I guess we'll be seeing Dr Lorenson then?_

“I certainly hope so.”

_-Your mother will mail you about the details of our trip once she has them organized. She says she loves you and she told you so._

He rolled his eyes. “I know. Tell her I love her, too. Bye, Dad.”

He hanged up, smiling at Christa who raised a questioning brow in return.

“My parents will visit at the beginning of the summer. They asked if you'd be there,” he explained, taking off his towel and starting to get dressed.

“Oh.”

“Something's wrong?” he frowned.

“No. I mean, I know them. And I guess we're done now with the awkward 'Hi, I'm the woman who sleeps with your son' moment,” she quipped.

There was something, still, something she was holding back. He could see it in her eyes.

“What is it?” he asked while buttoning his black jeans. He was about to grab a shirt when a thought hit him. It was like a punch in the guts and not the hot, good type. “I'm sorry, maybe I assumed too much? If you think I'm making plans too far in advance...”

“No!”she exclaimed. Her answer, heartfelt and immediate, left him deeply relieved. She seemed to hesitate but finally, she spoke out. “I'm just surprised that you do.”

He sat down on the bed. 

“What do you mean?” 

Christa wished she hadn't been caught off guard and let her puzzlement show, but it was too late now. He had looked deflated and a little bit hurt, a moment ago, and she couldn't bear it. She didn't want him to believe wrongly that she had reservations and anyway, nothing would work out between them without honesty. 

“You love your parents. I know how much they mean to you. Our relationship is still very new, it would be only normal if you wanted to wait before telling them anything. So I didn't think you'd be ready for this or would make plans for us to meet...the whole notion didn't even come to my mind before your father's call, to be honest. And I'm surprised that you're so flippant about something so important, all the more since a few weeks ago you weren't ready to sign the form for HR, whereas it didn't matter. It doesn't mean I'm not glad, I'm just surprised,” she finished with a small smile, willing to clear any misunderstanding.

Little did she know. 

It was the Christa he knew, Neal thought as she spoke, sensible and sensitive at once. Every word she said made sense and appeased him...except for one thing that left him blinking, nonplussed.

“It didn't matter?”

“I mean, not on a personal...Forget it, I shouldn't have mentioned it.” 

“No...I don't understand, Christa.” He stretched out his hand to take hers. “Why were you upset, if it didn't matter to you?”

“Seriously?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You don't see why I was unhappy, considering the choices that were left to me, or rather, the choice that was left to me?” 

“What choices? I swear, I have no idea,” he added since she still didn't look convinced. 

She explained, even though she seemed to think that she was stating the obvious.

“Well, as you can imagine, Gina gave me three options. We signed the form, or we were fired, or we could break it off. If the first one wasn't possible for you, I was left with either pursuing this relationship under the radar, which would put my career in jeopardy, or breaking it off. But if you didn't care enough to sign a meaningless paper in order to secure my job, and yours, the former wasn't worth it to start with. Therefore, I was only left with the third option.”

He paled a little, let her hand drop. Her tone was patient, devoid of any aggressiveness, and it gave that much more weight to her words...the very words he had dreaded to hear.

“You wanted to end things between us?”

“I didn't _want_ to. I thought I would _have to_ , hence, I was upset. And as I told you, I was upset to be upset.” She gave him a look, and her stance got a little defensive. “Listen, I don't know why you took my joke seriously, but I never saw this form as a kind of marriage license or anything. I just wanted to keep my job. It's true, though, that I never thought of us as a short fling either.”

“And you think I saw us like that,” he said slowly. 

“At the moment, I believed you might,” she corrected. “You talked about us using the future tense but on the other hand, you made a big deal out of something that shouldn't have been one. So I came to wonder if you were really sincere.”

He passed his hands over his face, trying to compute all the new information. He had never really understood why she pushed him away after that day, why she refused to let him support her after she found Gina bathing in her blood, why his concern for her seemed to anger her. The reasons she had given him at the time only explained why she was mad at herself. Even if she took his not signing the form on the spot as a sign of reluctance or refusal to commit, her reaction was disproportionate to what he knew of her and the idea had never satisfied him entirely.  
Now, if she believed that he cared so little about her and was selfish enough, or afraid enough, to be ready to put her career at risk, no wonder she was mad at him and thought they had no future...She didn't want to rely on him because for her, his concern was just words, he finally realized. 

They had completely misread each other. He raised his eyes and this time, took both her hands in his, tugging on them so that she'd come and sit by his side. He had many things to tell her and many questions to ask, but first and foremost, there was one doubt he needed to clear.

“I was sincere. I always was.” She had to believe him. She had to. 

“I know that now,” she said gently, entwining her fingers with his.

“But not because I signed the form, then,” he concluded.

She gave him a sad smile. “A piece of paper? I learned the hard way that it doesn't prove nor guarantee anything.” 

How stupid of him. She had shocked him a moment ago when she said it was meaningless. But of course it would be, to her. Once, he had overheard her telling Leanne that her husband had left her, and he knew she was divorced because during their first breakfast together she had mentioned it in passing, while well on her way of being drunk. Otherwise, until right now, she had never even alluded to her past marriage. It was so easy, then, to forget its existence or how it could have shaped her way of thinking.  
Looking forward and never back, he mused, she made it so easy to forget something crucial about her. She had been hurt before.

“So what changed your mind?” 

Her smile went from sad to soft, and straight to his heart.

“You.”

_The endless, harrowing day of the hearing was finally over, but Neal still felt on edge. Restless. He would be until he could see Christa, talk to her and make up with her, he knew it. But she wanted space and he had to respect her wish. The last time he had a glimpse of her, she was entering Malaya's room and she'd probably stay there as long as she was needed.  
He was closing his locker, set for a lonely and depressing evening, when she showed up in the deserted room. She leaned her back against the door, her expression guarded, her eyes still full of questions. She looked emotionally and physically drained, and he fought hard an impulse to just take her into his arms. He could see that she wasn't yet ready to let him in._

_“Leanne told me. Why?” she simply asked. “You didn't have to. Now that no one...”_

_She broke off, horrified as she realized what her words could imply. With an exhausted sigh, she buried her face in her hands. “Oh God, that's not what...”_

_“I wanted to.”_

_She peered at him, hesitant, and at long last he saw what she had managed to conceal so far under her rebuffs and the distance she put between them. Her fear of giving her trust, her fear of being hurt..._

_“I'm with you. I want to be with you, Christa,” he repeated, looking into her eyes, hoping that his tone conveyed what his bloody inability to express himself didn't let him say._

_He couldn't be without her. He hurt when she hurt. He loved her._

_After a few interminable seconds, she walked towards him and placed gently her hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes, the smooth feel of her fresh skin spreading like a balm on his tired nerves. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her head on his chest. His heart threatened to burst with emotion and he held her tight, never wanting to let go. She felt so right there in his arms, she belonged there, she belonged with him, to him._

_“I'm sorry,” she murmured, her voice frail._

_“No, I'm sorry.”_

_He shouldn't have let his past weigh on him, he shouldn't have doubted them. She was shaking now, exhaustion and psychological strain were catching up with her._

_“Let me take you home, sweetheart. Let me take care of you,” he coaxed, kissing her temple._

_She nodded against his chest, and he felt steady again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to explain canon, because with her history and attitude so far Christa thinking that a paper meant a commitment didn't make sense to me at all; neither that she asked for one so soon. This is only the first part of the discussion, the next chapter will show more of Neal's views and interpretation (and why he was flippant at the beginning of the chapter).  
> Thank you for your kudos and comments, as always very much appreciated, and thanks for reading!


	3. Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal wants to clarify his reaction about the HR form, and starts with a first misunderstanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For rose, who suffered through the many drafts and listened to all my ramblings and stupid questions with infinite, infinite, infinite patience. You're the best!  
> Non beta-ed, please forgive any mistake you might find.

The day of the hearing, Christa had felt nothing but cold. Cold like her memories, like the feel of Gina's skin as, still screaming for help, she crouched by her side to evaluate the damages, like the feel of Angus's hand when she took it after the monster was sent upstairs to Surgery. Cold like the present, like those board members who thought money and rules and not people, cold like Ed Harbert's gaze when he accused her of failing to intervene and save Gina. Cold like her heart was then, but this cold she welcomed since when ice melt, it wept. 

Her numb state lasted until Neal looked at her the way he did now, as if she was precious to him. She had been on her own for so long, from the moment she was told her son was sick, really, and she had forgotten how it felt to be able to rely on someone. Still, he had kept his word and he had taken care of her, he had...cherished her, erasing any doubt that he wasn't sincere.

She saw in his eyes that he had followed the same train of thought and reminisced that evening, too.

“It was wonderful. You were wonderful.”

He murmured her name in answer, leaned in and delicately pressed his lips against hers, over and over, until she parted them and he could gently take her mouth. They didn't touch but for their entwined hands, gripping tighter as he kept their kiss light and restrained. 

Maybe it wouldn't have stayed so but his landline phone rang again and this time, it was the expected call. She wandered around the kitchen while he settled the details with the company, and poured two cups of coffee. Neal signaled for her to look outside and following his gaze, she sighed. Dark rain clouds were gathering and already hiding the sun. She had hoped they could go to the beach, enjoy some time outdoors since they spent their days in the claustrophobic atmosphere of the hospital...the chances didn't look good; so she nodded to him when he silently asked for confirmation that he could have the fridge delivered today. 

“They had planned it but somehow forgot to call yesterday. They'll be here around twelve,” he announced as he joined her, finishing to button a dark grey shirt. “Maybe if the sky clears again, we'll be able to go out this afternoon.”

“I'm sorry I was no better than the weather and ruined the mood,” she apologized. 

They had so few and precious days off and away from stress, away from those encounters with pain and tragedy that went with the territory of ER work. Neal took the cup she handed to him and planted a soft kiss on her temple.

“You didn't ruin anything. Actually, it's my turn. There are things I need to clarify.” 

“This isn't an inquiry,” she protested. “You don't have to.”

She knew that it didn't do any good to keep things buried and even though she hadn't meant to talk about it, clearing the air about how she felt was fine. But Neal worked differently and she didn't expect, didn't want him him to reciprocate, and certainly not out of obligation.

“I know. But I want to.”

He sat on a stool in front of the countertop. She stayed standing right next to him, sipping her coffee, finding herself a bit too nervous to settle down. His expression was serious, bordering solemn, and she didn't quite know what to expect.

“First and foremost, I need you to know that I'd never put your job in jeopardy. I know what it means to you. I reacted the way I did because I didn't think for one second that it was in danger.”

She considered it wiser to put her cup down, after almost spilling her coffee. This she didn't expect _at all_. 

“How come? You know the hospital's policy, don't you?”

“Well, first there were Gina's ways,” he explained. “She was aggressive and she barked...a lot, but she rarely bit. When push came to shove, she usually caved in. She let Leanne and me, and Heather, get away with offenses more serious and more potentially damageable to the hospital than innocuous dating. I didn't imagine that she'd truly go after us.”

The image of Kelly Rockman, dead in Center Stage, crossed Christa's mind. Gina didn't always cave in, and never with _her_...but she saw how Neal could have a different point of view. 

“I didn't want to believe it at first, either,” she agreed. “I told her it was very new, I thought she'd let us breathe and figure things out before HR intervened. But she was adamant. She said, verbatim, that she'd make an example out of the two us if we didn't sign. Believe me, she couldn't have been more serious.”

He looked very surprised but to his credit, he didn't doubt her assessment of Gina's intentions.

“Why didn't you tell me all that?” he simply asked. 

“She did give me the form, and a _very_ short notice, which I thought made it unequivocal that she didn't leave us any margin of maneuver. It was unpleasant enough, I didn't want to dramatize. And since the pressure was on me...”

“You didn't want to share it,” he deduced, lips curving up in a fond smile. 

It was more complicated than that, but rather hard to explain. She did freak out after leaving Gina's office, on her way to find Neal.  
Her job was the foundation of her new life. Professionally, she was already shaken after failing Kelly and her family on the previous day, and after the disaster with the suicide victim not an hour before. When Gina summoned her, she even assumed it was to reprimand her about it. So her first reaction to her ultimatum was concern for her job...yet very quickly, anger took over. By asking her to present Neal with the form, it was as if Gina made her a willing participant in something she never wished to start with and the more she thought of it, the more it infuriated her.  
She had needed a few minutes alone in a supply room in order to calm down; she refused to let her emotions get the better of her yet again. She convinced herself that her professional worries were without basis. Neal was always very protective of her, he'd never endanger her career. He was sensible, too. Thus she decided to treat the form as what it was after all, an administrative hassle. It made the situation more tolerable, allowing her to swallow her own frustration and speak to Neal in a light tone, which she hoped would attenuate the obnoxiousness of the situation for him. Once again, obviously, little did she know.

“I didn't see why it was necessary. Of course, I wish I withstood said pressure better than I did,” she specified, with a self-deprecating shrug. “I didn't expect your reaction at all, I was so dismayed and...” 

_Scared that history repeated itself. Scared that I was wrong again._

She broke off just in time. No need to open another can of worms. She had done enough already, she wasn't going to impose the ugly tale of the end of her marriage on him.

“You did pretty well, though. You were convincingly flippant when you showed me the form. It didn't even come to my mind that you could be worried about being fired,” he remarked.

He looked contrite, and he shouldn't. After all, sparing him of her own stress was the very result she had aimed for. Of course, she had assumed he'd see the situation in the same light as she did; but considering that he had no idea about her concerns, she could get how her attitude comforted him in his opinion. 

“I know you'd never let me down if you ever thought me in trouble, so...Note to self. Next time, go for damsel in distress,” she quipped, with a soothing caress on his upper arm. 

He visibly relaxed, gave a brief squeeze to her hand.

“There's another reason that explains how dense I was...no, I _was_ dense,” he insisted as she opened her mouth to argue. “Gina summoned you. Yet, if that discussion had to have any official capacity, she should have summoned _me_ or at the very least, I should have been present. I'm the attending, I'm the one with authority and thus, the one who put the hospital at risk. Because of this detail, for me, it was just her way to demand we kept our relationship extremely low-key until we decided to disclose it to HR.”

His reading of the situation finally made complete sense and somewhere deep inside her, remnants of a dim fear vanished. She realized that until now, she trusted him yet wasn't sure she could trust her own judgment. Nevertheless, and despite its coherence, his reasoning missed a pretty important point.

“Had it been Leanne...I'd have thought the same as you. A simple warning, woman to woman, in my own interest and yours.”

“I don't understand why Gina chose to talk to you instead of me, since she meant to carry out her threat.”

Christa hesitated. Talking about Gina was still difficult for her...as difficult as their rapport used to be. After her interview with the board, Leanne had taken her aside and very strongly emphasized that had she entered the locker room during the aggression, Hershman would have made three victims instead of two. Leanne was right, of course, but she couldn't get rid of a nagging feeling of guilt.

“She was in a mood, that day. It's no secret that she and I didn't click on a personal level, and what happened on the previous shift with my patient...it had strained our relationship yet a notch. As the director of the ER, she was entitled to intervene since an attending and a resident dating pertains to the hopital's policy. But at one point, and although I'm not sure she was aware of it, it came to my mind that it also allowed her to vent her guilt and frustration. I mean, she was stubbornly deaf to anything I could say and when she mentioned we could break it off, she looked a bit...gleeful, almost as if she was vindicated. As if there was something pers...”

Neal made a face that had her words dying on the tip of her tongue. 

“Before we...were you and her...” she stammered.

“Absolutely not.” 

There was no censure in Christa's voice, just stupefaction, but Neal wanted things to be crystal clear. 

“And it was never in my intentions,” he stressed.

A year ago, he would have laughed out loud if anyone told him he'd be in love with someone mere months after the end of his most serious relationship so far. Falling for Christa was the last thing he expected...bar falling so hard for her, of course. And although they weren't together yet, he was already pursuing her when Gina made advances to him. He loathed the idea that she could believe even just for a moment that he was on the prowl or that she ever had a rival. He couldn't bear the idea that it could cheapen what he felt for her in her eyes.

The notion didn't seem to occur to her, though, and for this he was grateful. 

“But it was in hers,” she concluded. “Sorry, I don't ask you to not kiss and tell. It's just that her attitude at the end of our conversation didn't really make sense, and now it does.” 

It very much did and come to think of it, he shouldn't be surprised.

He didn't believe that Gina's interest in him was ever anything other than shallow, but she had been miffed. _I guess that gentlemen prefer blondes_ , she shrugged disdainfully upon his refusal to have drinks and very clearly more, after Jesse's heart attack. At the time, he took it for a random cutting remark about the last woman she saw him with; and it happened that just before she approached him, he had a heartfelt discussion with Christa about the events of the day.  
And of course, the ER director did allude more brashly to his feelings, which he was aware he didn't conceal as well as he wished... _Check yourself before you wreck yourself_. Gleeful, yes, it was the exact word to qualify her tone. Besides, he didn't answer anything because he did feel that her remark contained a smidgen of payback for turning her down.  
They said you shouldn't speak ill of the dead, yet he believed they deserved to be given their honest due. Gina was part of the ER family, and he appreciated her many qualities...but she could be quite petty. He wouldn't put it past her to place Christa in an awkward position and under pressure, as long as it was strictly about a personal issue, because of an old bruise to her ego. 

“I'm sorry if she gave you grief because of me.”

“It wouldn't be your fault at all. Again, she and I didn't have an affinity with each other and she was on edge. Maybe my attitude annoyed her, is all. And don't forget that she also told Malaya off. We all have our days. I know it better than anyone...”

Neal could list dozens of reasons why he loved Christa, but her kindness certainly ranked high among them. Indeed, she and Gina had their issues. Yet she had shed genuine tears for their slain colleague, not only out of shock, not only because someone gone too young would always bring back the loss of her son on some level. He knew it because on the evening of the inquiry it was over Gina, the person, and for her loved ones who had lost her, that Christa had cried in his arms.

“And this is why I owe you an apology,” she went on.

“I'm sorry?” he blinked.

“That's my line,” she smiled tentatively, placing a finger on his mouth in order to prevent any objection. “I jumped to conclusions and my temper was on short fuse. I should have known that you couldn't care so little about my job, I should have looked for an explanation. I shouldn't have rebuked you like I did.”

“Your conclusions were logical after I failed to draw the most obvious one. We both misread each other, no apology necessary.” 

“But afterwards you tried to reach out for me, and I rejected you.”

“Considering what you believed and the amount of stress you were under...”

Understatement. Two highly emotional shifts coming with losing a patient in a row, the assault on one of her close friends plus the shock of finding Gina in the locker room would have justified her psychological strain. During their discussion in the corridor, he didn't even know that Harbert had insinuated she could have prevented the ER director's murder, or that the board was more or less trying to pine Gordon Heshman's death on her.

“It isn't an excuse,” she cut short. “Those aren't the only reasons for my attitude so yes, I need to apologize. Your reaction left me dismayed and hurt, that's true. But in retrospect, I guess it was easier to be mad at you and at myself...it was easier to think about us, to be upset about us, than about the other things that happened...I wasn't aware of it at the time, but I clung to my anger like to a lifeline because I was afraid that my other emotions might catch up with me.”

They finally did, though. The image of her hiding behind a gurney to cry flashed in his mind.

“It wasn't fair to you. I wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry,” she finished.

Sometimes, her honesty and complete lack of self-indulgence disarmed him as much as her kindness. In this particular case though, she shouldn't blame herself. His reaction, too, had deepest and more sensitive roots than simply missing the point. There was another misunderstanding he had to clear. He drew her to him, sighing as she closed her arms around his shoulders. He was getting to the tricky part, and he needed the comfort of her touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to explain 1x15, Neal part 1. It didn't make sense to me -read: it was inconceivable- that Neal didn't immediately think of protecting Christa's job (hellooo, 1x10!). Neal is a decent guy!  
> I had to cut my original chapter 3 in two, hence chapter 4 is now part two of this discussion  
> Once more one of my stories winded up longer than I thought. Please consider this a permanent apology since I'm afraid it won't be the last time.


	4. I'm with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal has a second misunderstanding to clear, and some parts of his past resurface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non beta-ed, please forgive any mistake you might find.

_“It wasn't fair to you. I wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry,” she finished._

“Don't apologize, please. I wasn't fair to you either.”

“Because you thought I was asking for commitment on what basically was the morning after? Well, the evening after actually...” Christa grinned.

Neal wasn't sure where he should begin to explain her how and why the second misunderstanding between them happened, until her attempt at humor gave him the perfect opening.

“About this...you thought I didn't want to sign, and was trying to stall by asking we talk...” he suggested. 

“What do you mean, 'I thought'?”

“It was the opposite, actually.”

“What?” 

In other circumstances, her astounded face might have been comical. Yet he felt a bit too vulnerable and nervous to appreciate it.

“I wanted to ensure that you understood what this form implied,” he specified. 

Christa stared at Neal for several seconds, speechless, trying to make sense out of his words since he couldn't possibly...

“You...You _did_ take it as a commitment?” she finally uttered, her tone incredulous. “But it was imposed on us...You can't _force_ someone to commit!”

“It was a document with legal value, giving an official capacity and an official existence to our relationship,” he opposed calmly. 

Of course. Of course Neal would see it like this. How could she pass over it? He took everything so seriously. And if she looked at things in his perspective, she had to admit that his logic was pretty flawless.  
She should have reckoned that for him, signing a document was binding, no matter what prompted it. In her eyes, the form was a technicality they couldn't avoid if they wanted to be together and keep their jobs. In his, it was a further step in their relationship that they could choose to take or not. They had apprehended the situation on different levels, professional for her, personal for him...while mutually certain to be on the same page.

“You didn't exaggerate when you said we misread each other,” she sighed, appalled. “Oh, Neal, no wonder you wanted to discuss it. If I had any idea that you...Wait. You said, the opposite?”

Neal saw the second realization hit her, so he braced himself and took the leap.

“I wasn't afraid of committing to you, on the contrary,” he confirmed as she gaped at him. “But I wasn't sure where you stood.”

Reading her signature on the form had so very absurdly pleased him. After their first breakfast, she had been quite clear about her priorities and a relationship wasn't part of them. Therefore, he knew that she wouldn't have gotten involved with him if it wasn't worth it in her eyes, if she didn't have feelings for him, if those feelings didn't run reasonably deep. Still, he was elated to see proof of it, written in black and white...

Until all hell broke loose in his damn head.

“But...but you seemed hesitant when I mentioned telling the others later...and my joke about a marriage licence made you look like a deer caught in headlights...”

It did, but not for the reasons she believed...reasons she couldn't suspect. His past chose this precise moment to come back and haunt him.

Hearing Christa talking about the situation with good-natured humor, he had sudden flashbacks of his relationship with Grace.  
Grace, who after a few weeks breezily began to leave her toothbrush and some clothes at his appartment, Grace who after about a year breezily moved in his flat, Grace who after a couple of years breezily talked him into leaving his job and LA for Haiti. Grace who, he realized it later, initiated every progress in their relationship as if it was self-evident. Yet Grace who, after he was ready to change his life all over again mostly in order to satisfy her aspirations, which implied leaving his friend and mentor whereas the loss of her whole family was still fresh, breezily refused him the commitment he felt he was entitled to ask in return.  
What if history repeated itself? He used to think that his relationship with Grace was going smoothly, he used to think that they were equally involved and had an understanding; yet all this time he had been wrong. What if he was wrong again, then? What if _Christa_ didn't feel the same as he did, and left him one day out of the blue, too? The notion left him reeling. Needless to say that her mention of a marriage licence, reminder of his rejected proposal, had about the same effect as an ice bucket thrown at him.

If she had been unfair, then so had he. She was completely different from his ex-girlfriend and yet, he had attributed the same intentions, the same attitudes to her. He had doubted her and himself, he had doubted them. He had let his past and his insecurities weigh on their relationship and hurt them both.  
He wanted to tell her everything, he wanted her to understand, but he found himself unable to. He was afraid that he wouldn't find the right words. He didn't want to open a can of worms pertaining to his past only and screw up everything between them all over again in the process.

“It wasn't what you said, it was the way you said it,” he evaded, and after all, it was the truth. “I know now that you were trying to make things easier for me. At the time, though, your offhand attitude made me think that you didn't take it as...as seriously as I believed it should be. But then my reaction hurt you, and _you_ thought I wasn't ready to commit, so I was at a loss.”

“And I avoided you, so you couldn't talk to me.”

In all sincerity, it wasn't difficult. The following week had passed by like a blur, and between the police investigation, the board investigation and the complete disorganisation of the ER with its personnel under shock, they barely had time to breathe. In addition, the first year residents spent their whole off shift time sitting with Malaya.

“I didn't know what to say to you in the first place,” he admitted sadly. 

“I felt miserable,” she confessed, taking his face between her hands.

“Me too.”

He was beyond miserable, actually, and his dilemma plagued him until he spotted her slumped on the floor and in tears behind that gurney...It _ached_ that he couldn't be with her, share her sorrow, console her. It was when he stopped second-guessing himself. No matter what, not matter what she did or didn't feel for him, for better or for worse he loved Christa. He was bound to her and had no choice but take the risk of being hurt.  
So he had signed the form and meant to ask Harbert for a minute of his time after the inquiry, time to hand it over to him. Yet during his second interview, being witness to those hapless bureaucrats in need of a scapegoat trying to put the blame on Christa of all people was more than he could take.  
It got him an idea of what her own hearing must have been like, and it outraged him. If not for their damn rules and their damn paperwork, she wouldn't have to go through grief alone. He wanted to be with her, and if he couldn't it was because of them in the first place. He needed to stand up for her, against them, even just as a symbol. So on impulse he did what he never thought he'd ever do: He made a public show of his privacy. And it felt damn right. For the first time in a week, he was pleased with himself.

“Let's not do it again”, she proposed, stroking his hair.

“I should have followed my first impulse and sign the bloody thing immediately,” he regretted, resting his forehead against hers. 

Why did he have to think too much, all the time?

“Immediately,” she repeated. “With the way you saw it, I find it incredible that you signed it at all. It was so early...we had _just_ gotten together.”

“Christa, I didn't...” _fall in love with you_ , “begin to have feelings for you when I kissed you for the first time,” he stated.

“And I didn't know I had those feelings until you kissed me. See who was dense.”

Of course. Of course, it was way too soon for her to be where he was. He had known for months, she didn't. He wasn't scared anymore, because she didn't pretend, because she was honest...but this form was nothing but a piece of paper for her, after all, and his heart grew a little heavy. 

A few weeks ago, Christa would have taken Neal's sudden, subtle change of mood as him pulling back after her admission of feelings. But she wasn't afraid anymore, and she knew him better. So she pulled away, looked straight into his eyes. There was something vulnerable there, and she understood. 

“Tell me.” 

“Christa, I don't expect you to...it's only normal that you don't...”

Oh, Neal, she thought. She had guessed right. He just melt her heart and broke it at the same time. She couldn't bear that she was responsible for the forlorn light in his gaze. How could he still not know? 

“I mean, tell me what you wanted to say about the form,” she added gently. 

He looked over her face, his expression puzzled. 

“I would have said...” He made a little pause, after which words seemed to come to him rather easily, “I know there are rules, I know we break them. But I don't like that I have to expose my privacy and I won't do it lightly. I refuse to have to go to HR in a few months or even a year from now and tell them they can throw this form away. I'll completely understand if it's too much, if it's too early for you...but in that case we should wait before signing. We should wait until you know where you want this to go.” 

In other words, he knew where he wanted them to go. He thought _years_ and not months...No wonder that he didn't freak out this morning, when his father called.  
He was fair, he was honest, he was true to his principles, he didn't cower away from his feelings, he respected her...he was trustworthy. He was everything she had stopped dreaming a man could be. No wonder either that she misread him: He was plainly too good to be true and just when she thought she couldn't fall harder for him, he amazed her and made her love him more. Oh God she loved him. She truly loved him and it didn't even frighten her anymore. 

She let out a quivering breath. “You know what I'd have answered?”

His dark eyes plunged into hers, and he shook his head very slowly. 

“I'm with you. I want yo be with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to explain 1x15, Neal part 2. Because it didn't make sense to me that he was prey to a sudden fear of commitment after he did the pursuing/was so into Christa. So here is a plausible -I hope- explanation that allows him to stay Prince Charming.  
> Not so open hearts in the end, though...two cans of worms stayed buried, because the finale happened.  
> Next: a sickeningly cute chapter/epilogue.


	5. Laughter in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Laughter and Saccharine in the Rain so you are warned.  
> Neal reminisces the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They have a bit of fun but nothing above T. Warning: OTT clichés.  
> Non beta-ed, please forgive any mistake you might find.

Neal stirred, stretched out and checked the clock. Past midnight. The sound of the rain now falling steadily didn't lull him back to sleep, so it would probably evade him for a moment. It didn't bother him. In the stillness of the night, he felt content and at peace. Shifting carefully so as not to wake Christa, whose head was laying on the pillow against his shoulder, and propping himself on his elbow, he indulged once more and watched her sleep while he reminisced their day. 

***

_“I'm with you. I want to be with you.”_

_He knew he'd never forget the emotion that seized him when she repeated his own words to him. He'd never forget her misty blue eyes, her slightly husky voice, or her earnest tone as she said them._

_“You want to know what else I would have said?” she went on._

_Overwhelmed, he couldn't but nod._

_“I would have said...I saw this form as a mere piece of paper because it didn't come from us. Now it has a meaning, because you gave it one. It also gives another meaning to my sign on it. It isn't too early, it isn't too much for me. So I think you should sign it now, for us and not for them, because we want the same thing.”_

_She had the power to undo him, he realized. He didn't know how to master the maelstrom of feelings she evoked in him and kept staring at her, wordless, while she committed to him. As if she understood, she caressed his jaw, but pulled back when he leaned in for a kiss._

_“And then,” she added, a mischievous smile slowly curving her lips, “We should hand it to HR so that we can get them off our back and kick them out of our privacy for good. And if we didn't break the rules, and if Harbert wasn't kind of scary and humorless, I'd be all for flipping them the finger, too...Neal!”_

_She yelped his name, seeing as he had picked her up and spun her round. As always with her, it was joy that took over in the end. He was in love with her and with her he felt carefree, he felt wonderful.  
She was laughing, too, when he took her lips. He drank her laugh before he secured her firmly in his arms and applied himself to devour her mouth, to start with. Her answer was as passionate as ever and the situation got rapidly out of control since, although the specifics were lost in a blur of heat and touches and moans, soon he had her sitting on the kitchen countertop, legs wrapped around his hips._

_Thunder rumbling outside distracted him for a second, prompting him to notice that it was raining cats and dogs._

_“So much for going out...” she let out, her sultry eyes belying her regretful sigh._

_“Good that we changed our plans,” he asserted, baring her shoulder so that he could graze his lips against its soft round curve._

_“Did we?” she mocked sweetly. “Oh, you mean the delivery of your frid...”_

_She broke off on a gasp, as he teased a sensitive point at the juncture of her collarbone with his tongue._

_“I mean what I'm going to do to you before my fridge is delivered,” he promised hotly._

_He intended to detail, but was forced to bite his lips instead since she didn't remain idle and in clear retaliation, slipped her hands inside his jeans._

_“You were saying?”_

_He wanted her so much right now, it wasn't even funny._

_“I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look in this dress,” he murmured in her ear, his own hands sliding up her thighs, bunching the fabric even further up._

_“You've done nothing but trying to take it off,” she pointed out, her breath on the short side now._

_“My point exactly,” he countered, taking her sweet smartass mouth again._

_An almost deafening clap of thunder, immediately followed by a blinding light and a tremendous crashing sound five seconds later, had them jolt apart._

As it happened, lightning had struck nearby and made no damages, but the thunderbolt had blinded several drivers and provoked a massive car accident at the crossroads at the end of his street. They were doctors so of course they had rushed to the scene since they'd be there before EMS. They had taken care of triage and first aid, helping the paramedics afterwards. Thankfully, there were no casualties and only four victims out of twenty-five would need surgery. 

By the time they were done, it was almost noon. They were just back in his flat and done drying their hair when his fridge arrived. It had pleased him to have one again -he disliked junk food, way too unhealthy.  
He had been less happy with the way the delivery guys looked at Christa. The first one, whom he supposed Americans would call a redneck in his early thirties, openly leered at her while she wasn't looking, at least until Neal glared at him. The second one, a chubby Latino probably in his late teens, made moon eyes at her and Neal didn't have it in him to glare at the boy, but it _annoyed_ him. And of course Christa had to propose them to have a cup of coffee since according to her _The accident forced them to park farther away and carry your fridge under the rain, Neal_. He didn't know what got more on his nerves, the fact that she was right, the fact that boy with a crush turned red as a lobster when she handed him his cup or the fact that she didn't say “our” fridge. No, she didn't live here but she could have pretended she did.  
What she did, unfortunately, was to notice his state of mind and by all means she found it very entertaining. He was extremely careful to conceal his _annoyances_ at work, since he suspected as much. First, she said it was cute, and he wasn't sure that he should take a word generally associated with puppys and kittens as a compliment. Then she gently teased him, and he couldn't be mad at her but he teased her back out of sheer male pride, which led them to a playful bicker, which he didn't know how ended on a dare that they'd spend their afternoon doing anything but what they usually did on their days off, _I can if you can_.

So, as she had said, they had their date at home. They had ordered Japanese for lunch, for a change, and then vegetables and healthy food from the supermarket, which he knew would be delivered later by a nice old _lady_. Afterwards they had settled on the couch and he read the paper, head resting on her lap, discussing the news with her while she was reading something on her tablet. He confiscated the device, though, when he discovered she was in fact reviewing her last cases. She turned on the TV then, and it was a soap opera she used to watch when she was a stay-at-home mom; he had never seen one and he wasn't sure he'd have liked the genre if not for her quite fascinating comments, which were satiric at times and extremely involved at others.

She had called Malaya like she did every day, and they were both relieved to learn that her friend felt well enough to go back to work by the following week. Mario spent the day with her. He had also called Mike, not only for a chat. He and Christa agreed that Angus was withdrawn since the aggression, and the residents suspected that he didn't go to his therapy sessions. Sadly, although he thanked him for his concern, his friend had dodged his interrogations and just repeated vague certainties that Angus was shaken but strong and was getting better, which did nothing to alleviate their concerns.  
He had also received several texts from Leanne, who had to spend her day off budgeting and would have preferred to have her spleen removed without anesthesia if he relied on the last one. Christa commiserated even more since budgeting meant dealing with Ed Harbert, until she grinned wickedly while sharing her thought that Leanne was very able to “give him a run for him money and drive him nuts” if he pushed her too far and prompted her to adopt her best mulish behavior. 

It was still raining when night fell and they cooked dinner together. She was perched on a stool, he was standing on the other side of the countertop, checking on the vegetable pie cooking in the oven, and they were sharing a glass of red over cheese and pickles when _it_ had happened.

_“So much for going out, though...” she regretted again, more seriously than earlier._

_“We did go out,”he remarked with a boyish smirk._

_“With rain boots and our work raincoats, to deal with the victims of an accident...not really what I had in mind.”_

_He detected something wistful in her tone, which aroused his curiosity._

_“And what did you have in mind?”_

_“Nothing special, really...”_

_He stared at her, a brow raised._

_“Forget it. It's ridiculous.” She took a sip of wine in order to hide her embarrassment._

_“Christa, you and I know that I can make you talk if I want to,” he warned suavely._

_“It's just...you know. Or maybe you don't.” She took another sip, avoiding his gaze. “Just romantic clichés...walking together on the beach, hand in hand, that kind of stuff. I know that it might sound stupid but...”_

_He leaned over the countertop and brushed his lips against hers._

_“Then we're both stupid, because it's kind of what I had in mind, too.”_

_She beamed and this time it was she who leaned over to kiss him. Only, she did it fully on the mouth._

_“I had a wonderful afternoon with you, though. And rain won't always be a killjoy, we can go to the beach another time,”she said afterwards, with her most adorable smile._

_That particular smile of hers never failed to bring him to his knees. It made him want to grant her her every wish. She could ask for the moon that he'd only take note of when and where exactly she wanted it delivered. And right now, what she wished..._

_On impulse, he walked around the countertop and took her hand._

_“Come with me.”_

_She widened her eyes, but followed him without question in the corridor, in the elevator until the last floor, and up a small service staircase under the poor lighting of a single bulb. He strided rapidly and above all he avoided thinking, aware that if he did, he'd probably come to his senses and chicken out._

_He stopped in front of a steel door, opened it with one of his keys._

_“Why the rooftop?” she asked then._

_He pushed the panel open, stepped out in the pouring rain and turned toward her._

_“You wanted romantic clichés? What about kissing in the rain?” he asked, feeling completely foolish -certainly because he was- and exhilarated at once._

_She stayed still, gaping, for about two seconds. Then her eyes, her face lit, exactly how he had hoped they would, and she flew into his arms. He caught her and whirled her around, her clear and joyous laughter resounding loudly in the empty space. Her lips found his, his mouth merged with hers, he kissed her as if his life depended on it and nothing existed anymore but her warmth and her sweetness and his love for her._

Of course, romantic clichés like kissing in the rain mostly belonged to movies, or to soap operas like the one that inspired him the idea, because in reality they weren't quite practical. In his case, he had forgotten that February rain was freezing, and that he had neighbors.  
Soaking wet and already shivering while waiting for the elevator, they had bumped into a respectable and not very fun-loving couple of university professors who exited the car. Worse, Christa had been bent over double at the view of their reproving faces, which he doubted they appreciated.  
It had been absolutely, entirely worth it, though. If only because she had called him crazy with awe in her voice. _Admit it, it was a ploy to have me in the shower_ , she had teased him during their later-than-planned dinner. He had to point out that one, they were in need of a hot shower unless they wanted to catch a cold; two, as soon as the door of his flat was closed, she all but wrapped herself around him and dragged him into the bathroom; and three, truth was that she had him. _Your turn, then_ , she had challenged, so they had made love again until they fell asleep in each other's arms. 

***

As a pleasant drowsiness invaded him little by little, Neal's memories faded away and he smothered a yawn. He gazed a last time at Christa, at the serene face of the woman he loved. The woman who made him act on impulse and feel right about it. The woman who made him do crazy things that he didn't even regret afterwards. Perhaps it was all those ideas mixing in his now somnolent mind that spurred him to lean in, whisper three little words he had never said to any other, and press softly his lips against hers. She mumbled something that sounded like his name and cuddled up to him. He lay down again, his arms enfolding her, his chin resting on top of her head, and he closed his eyes. When sleep caught up to him, he had a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I profusely apologize but I accept no responsibility since the characters made me do it. I swear, they wanted to have fun and lighten up and be lovey dovey for the sake of it after all the heavy stuff. I hope that at least, it was fun to read!  
> Many thanks to everyone who reads, comments, leaves kudos or bookmarks :)  
> And special thanks to Clarebella, Steffi 1510, Nihonkikuasa211 and of course roseandheather who commented all my stories so far. I love to hear from readers so I'm very grateful to you all :)


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